


Being Undragoned

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, Eustace Adores His Cousins, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Listen I Have Feelings, M/M, and skin is foreign, and the sun is missed, in which unfucking your brain is exhausting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: When Eustace was just an English boy and not Cousin to Kings and Queens, he had teeth like a shark.or:The untangling of scales from skin and teeth from gums





	Being Undragoned

When Eustace was just an English boy and not Cousin to Kings and Queens, he had teeth like a shark. His baby teeth had refused to fall out, so his second teeth had grown behind them and he tugged the hem of his mother’s skirt and smiled at her. She clicked her tongue, straightened his tie and took him to the dentist, her mouth in a thin line.

When they came back home and Eustace’ father smiled at him and ruffled his hair and his mother shrugged off her jacket, his mouth felt numb and empty. He started writing in his journal that day, sketching out his teeth in their two rows, uneven and ragged.

 

* * *

 

When they stumble back into his room, the smell of salt water still in Eustace’ nose and the gravity of royalty still on his cousins’ shoulders, Eustace stares at his arms and finds nothing but smooth, pale skin. His teeth are dull and small and there is a heat below his lungs that isn’t quite English.

Lucy sits down on Edmund’s bed, tugs the band from her hair and buries her head in her arms. Her shoulders shake. (Her skin is pale and small and the school uniform looks foreign on her and suddenly Eustace remembers Peter’s eyes and Susan’s smile and how their hands lingered on Lucy’s waist.)

Eustace pushes himself off the floor and as Edmund walks over to the bed and cradles his sister in his arms, he clears his throat. “I’ll get you tea”, he says, his hands already on the doorknob.

The tiny mirror in the kitchen, just above the sink, is clean and smooth and Eustace doesn’t dare look at it. There were no mirrors on the Dawn Treader and his arms still feel too small, his eyes too weak. He fills the kettle with water, his scaleless hands shaking.

He does look at the mirror then, and sees a little boy with big eyes and wet arms, chest heaving.

 

* * *

 

 

Being a dragon was like being shark teethed again; two rows of sharp teeth and his skin hard as bone. His arms had warped and reshaped, the skin between his fingers suddenly wings, his skin suddenly scales and as Eustace lies in bed, Edmund’s sleepy muttering in his ears, he thinks of flying.

He thinks of flying and of Reepicheep’s cheer in his bones and of Lucy’s smile, open and free, her legs in trousers, twirling her dagger. He thinks of Edmund and the bruises on his neck, his lips on Caspian’s temple. He thinks of the sun, too, and of the salt on his scales and on his tongue.

The covers feel heavy, suddenly, and Edmund’s muttering has stopped. Eustace buries his head in his pillow and feels like the floor sways beneath him.

 

* * *

 

The dentist had numbed his mouth, smiling at him, his white coat stark against his skin and his mother’s fingers had felt cold in his hair.

“Will it hurt?”, he’d asked and the dentist shook his head.

Liar, Eustace thought when the dentist pulled the first tooth, the tongs cold against his skin. His mother smiled at him and the dentist furrowed his brows. Eustace kept his mouth open and said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Lucy sneaks into their room every night after nightfall and crawls into Edmund’s bed. He cradles her in his arms, kisses the top of her head and she sings nursery rhymes Eustace doesn’t recognize. He watches them, half tucked under his covers, half reaching for them.

“Eustace”, Lucy says one night, after singing about dragons and mermaids and scales. “You look cold.”

He shrugs, but Lucy pulls him to his feet. “Come”, she says. “It’s warmer here.”

He lets her pull him to Edmund’s bed and lies down next to her. She smiles, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, her nightgown rough linen, but Eustace can still see the shadows of the Queen. He smiles back. Edmund kicks him.

“Go to sleep”, he says into his pillow and Lucy laughs.

 

* * *

 

 

Being Undragoned feels a bit like the dentist pulling his shark teeth. His bones still ache, his jaw feels hollow and his skin feels soft and too delicate, spread over his flesh. When he tells this to the mirror in the little bathroom that his mother never quite manages to clean, the mirror says nothing. Eustace can feel water pooling at his legs, dripping from his hair, but the schoolboy that looks at him is dry and red cheeked.

He doesn’t cry. Instead, he opens all the jars in his room and opens the windows wide. (He throws his journals out, too, keeps only the pages not filled with insect anatomy and contempt.) Lucy grabs Edmund by the wrists and they waltz through the room, Lucy’s skirt billowing, Edmund’s back straight.

“Teach me”, Eustace says and Lucy bows and sits down. Edmund reaches for his hands.

 

* * *

 

 

“What is this?”, Eustace asks, when he sees his mother kneeling in the kitchen, her hair falling from the knot at the back of her head. She doesn’t turn around.

“There’s mice here”, she says and Eustace feels like the ground starts swaying, again.

“Mice?”, he asks. His voice breaks.

His mother nods. “I’m putting out traps.”

“Huh”, says Eustace and when she leaves, wiping her hands with the cloth of her dress, he sinks to the floor and removes every trap he can find.

Instead, he grabs a plate from the cupboard over the stove and cuts up a piece of bread.

“Bon appetit”, he says quietly as he puts the plate on the floor, behind the blinds, and thinks of Reepicheep and his sword.


End file.
